


Sleepwalking

by mmgage



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-19
Updated: 2011-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:43:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmgage/pseuds/mmgage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Amy's Choice.  After their encounters with the Dream Lord, Amy and Rory are sleeping fine, but the Doctor isn't.  Can Rory reach him before something horrible happens?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story represents a few firsts for me. First time I've done an actual, proper short story. First time I've done a fanfic with ONLY canon characters. First time I've completed a story before beginning to post it here. Here's hoping you enjoy all my firsts, and let me know. :)

The first time it happened it seemed innocent enough. Amy and Rory had been in the swimming pool, enjoying a leisurely splash and swim before bedtime. It was three days, Rory thought, since their encounter with the Dream Lord. He'd expected sleep to be difficult but it was amazing how quickly his memories had faded. He could only recall fragments of the dreams now, and getting to sleep was no longer difficult. Amy seemed to feel the same way; she always managed to drop off quickly. The only one who seemed to have any difficulty was the Doctor; Rory didn't think he'd slept for the past two days, but tonight he'd announced he was heading to bed. Amy and Rory had wished him well before heading to the pool.

They'd been splashing around for about an hour when the door to the pool room slid open. Rory felt dismayed to see the Doctor enter. He'd really hoped the Time Lord would get some rest.

"Can't sleep, Doctor?" he called, starting toward the end of the pool closest to the door. The Doctor didn't respond. He was moving forward slowly and Rory paused, feeling alarmed. There was something wrong. The Doctor was clad in pajamas – white with TARDIS-blue pinstripes – and barefoot. His eyes didn't seem to be focused on anything as he moved, coming closer and closer to the pool with his slow, halting steps.

"Doctor?" Rory called again, resuming his swim toward the pool's edge. There was definitely something wrong. The Doctor still didn't acknowledge him, continuing to walk forward. Rory was half-way to the pool's end when the Doctor took his last step, pitching forward into the pool.

"Doctor!" Amy cried and Rory heard her moving after him. The Time Lord was face-down in the water, unmoving, and Rory hurried alongside him. He rolled the Doctor onto his back, cradling the back of his head with one hand and placing the other at the small of his back. For a heart-stopping second the Doctor was still, then he jerked and began to cough. Rory kept his hands on him, making sure he kept his head above water even as he moved him toward the pool's edge.

"Wha… what am I doing here?" the Doctor spluttered.

"You walked right into the pool," Amy said breathlessly, moving up alongside them.

"No," the Doctor protested. "No. I couldn't have."

"You did," Rory told him, helping him up the steps out of the pool.

"But that… that doesn't make sense." The Doctor let Rory guide him toward a deck chair. Amy moved after them, snatching up one of the towels she and Rory had brought with them and draping it around the Doctor's shoulders.

"Are you alright?" she asked anxiously. When the Doctor didn't say anything she looked at Rory. "Is he?"

"I think he was sleepwalking," Rory said, looking back to the Doctor. "Is that possible? Do Time Lords sleepwalk?"

"I don't know," the Doctor answered. He was staring down at the floor, his face a mask of confusion. Water was dripping from him and he'd made no move to use the towel Amy had brought him. Rory reached for it.

"C'mon," he urged. "Let's get you dried off." He grabbed the towel and started to dry the Doctor's hair. After a moment the Time Lord stirred and took the towel from him.

"I'm alright," he said quietly. "I… I'm going to go get changed." He got to his feet and Rory moved back to make space.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm fine," the Doctor insisted, turning for the door.

Rory and Amy moved to the showers, dressing quickly before stepping out into the hall. They started toward their room, coming to a stop when they heard the sound of whistling coming from the console room. Rory moved on down the corridor, stopping on the landing to see the Doctor, dried off, fully-dressed, and working under the center column of the console. Rory sighed before turning away to go to bed.

…

A few days after the swimming pool incident, the Doctor took them to Treylon III. Rory had asked for a visit to a nice, peaceful planet. He was fairly certain the Doctor still wasn't sleeping and he hoped spending a night away from the TARDIS might do him good. They'd spent a leisurely afternoon wandering through an open-air market before winding up in a sidewalk café for dinner. The Doctor had said something about giving them some time together and tried to leave, but both Rory and Amy had insisted he stay. Rory wanted to see him eat (something he hadn't been doing a lot of on the TARDIS) and Amy wanted him to explain what was on the menu.

After their supper they strolled back to their hotel. The Doctor had used his psychic paper to secure them a luxurious suite on the top floor. They had a large sitting room with a bedroom on either side. All the rooms opened onto a sweeping balcony which gave them a commanding view of the city. Rory and Amy intended to enjoy it for a bit, but the Doctor retreated to his bedroom as soon as they reached the suite. Rory hoped he was going to sleep. The Time Lord's face was pale and his eyes shadowed. He'd also been trying to hide his yawns for the past hour.

Rory and Amy spent a few minutes out on the balcony, admiring the city below, before they went to their own bedroom. It had been a long day and after all their time in the fresh air, Rory thought he'd fall asleep quickly. An hour later he was still awake, staring up at the ornately-plastered ceiling of the bedroom and listening to Amy's steady breathing beside him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. It seemed impossible; this visit had been uneventful and enjoyable so far. The people in this particular city made their living entertaining tourists and they'd been gracious and welcoming. There'd been no hint of danger or disturbance. Still, Rory couldn't stop worrying. Finally he threw off the covers and slipped out of the bed, grabbing up his robe as he moved toward the French door leading to the balcony.

The planet had two moons and they were both shining brightly, casting a silver glow over everything. Rory stepped outside, drawing his robe closer as he stared out over the city. The stones in the buildings reflected the moonlight, while the cobblestone streets snaked in between them like a charcoal river. There was a flowering vine snaking around the balcony railing, the white blooms lightly scenting the cool air. Rory felt some of his anxiety easing as he took a deep breath. Surely nothing could go wrong here.

A creaking noise caught Rory's attention and he turned to see the Doctor emerging from his bedroom. He was clad in pajamas – this time they had dark blue polka-dots on them –and his feet were bare. Rory shook his head, feeling dismayed. He'd hoped the Doctor would be asleep by now. At least he needed to put on a robe and some slippers before he got chilled. He turned toward him, intending to say something, and felt his heart-rate pick up. The Doctor was moving as if in a trance, taking slow, halting steps toward the balcony rail.

"Doctor," Rory called, hurrying toward him. "Doctor, stop!" His words made no difference; the Doctor continued toward the railing, only stopping when he ran in to it. For a moment he was still, then he lifted on foot as if to climb up on to the rail. Rory lunged forward to catch his pajama-shirt-collar and pull him back. The Doctor fell, crashing in to Rory and causing them both to drop toward the balcony floor. They landed in a heap, Rory just managing to keep from hitting his head. The Doctor was sprawled across him, his elbow poking Rory's stomach. Rory wasn't sure if he'd hit his head or not; it all happened so fast. For a second he was still, struggling to catch his breath, and then the Doctor stirred.

"Wha… what?" He shifted, his elbow digging deeper into Rory's stomach and making him yelp. The Doctor froze, turning to stare at Rory. For an instant his fear and confusion was plain in his face, then he shut down. He managed to roll off of Rory without elbowing him further, coming to a rest face-down on the balcony.

"Doctor…" Rory began, sitting up.

"I'm fine." The Doctor pushed himself up into a seated position, his back to Rory.

"No, you're not. You were sleepwalking again."

"I'm fine," the Doctor repeated. "I just…"

"You almost went over the railing," Rory protested, reaching out to catch his shoulder when he started to get to his feet. "Doctor…"

"I'm sorry I scared you."

"Were you dreaming?" Rory pressed, scrambling to his feet as the Doctor stood.

"I don't remember." He seemed lost in thought, struggling to keep track of whatever was going through his mind and deal with Rory's questions at the same time. He took a few hesitant steps toward the balcony door and Rory moved with him.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked, reaching to get the door.

"I… I think I'll take a walk," the Doctor answered, moving through the door into his bedroom. Rory followed, watching him anxiously. The Doctor unbuttoned his pajama shirt before reaching for his clothes which were neatly folded on a bench at the foot of his bed.

"I'll come with you," Rory said firmly.

"You should go back to bed," the Doctor said, shrugging out of his pajama top and reaching for a vest. "I just… need to think. I won't go far."

"I'm coming," Rory repeated. He hurried out of the room and across the sitting room to his bedroom. He reached for his own clothing, which was scattered across the bench at the foot of the bed he shared with Amy. He shrugged out of his robe and pajamas, scrambling back into his jeans.

When they reached the lobby, Rory and the Doctor discovered the city had a curfew. The only option available to them for wandering was a small museum attached to the hotel. It was closed, but a wave of the psychic paper was enough to persuade the desk clerk to open it up for them. Rory trailed behind as the Doctor moved from exhibit to exhibit, criticizing most of them.

They passed a few hours in the museum before returning to the suite. Rory felt asleep on his feet, as if he'd just finished a 14-hour shift at the hospital, but the Doctor seemed energized. He bounded into the sitting room, coming to a stop when confronted by an irritable Amy.

"Where have the two of you been?" she demanded. She was perched on the arm of one of the couches, her arms crossed over her chest and her slippered foot beating out an impatient tattoo on the floor. The Doctor moved past her, reaching for the remote for the entertainment system. Amy shifted her frown to Rory, her glower deepening.

"We… we went for a walk," Rory said, trying to divide his attention between Amy and the Doctor. Amy was still frowning; the Doctor was scrolling through the menu on the vid screen.

"A walk? At this hour?"

"Oh!" the Doctor exclaimed. "They have Laurel and Hardy. I love Laurel and Hardy!" He flopped onto the couch and cued up a show. Amy glanced at him, sighing in exasperation.

"Rory…"

"C'mon," Rory said, motioning her toward their bedroom. He was finding it increasingly hard to stay upright. He managed, while changing back into his pajamas, to give Amy some semblance of an explanation before dropping into the bed. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	2. Part 2

After Treylon III, both Rory and Amy watched the Doctor warily. He was more chipper and energetic than ever, bounding about the TARDIS like a caffeinated child, but he still didn't seem to be sleeping. The dark circles under his eyes grew more pronounced and his skin took on a papery texture. Rory tried to talk to him, but the Doctor always found a way to evade the subject. By the third day Rory was thoroughly frustrated, sleep-deprived, and irritable.

It was now late, by Leadworth time, and Rory was waiting in the corridor at the top of the stairs from the console room. He and Amy had told the Doctor they were going to bed, leaving the Time Lord alone in the room below. In reality, they'd perched in the corridor, trying to keep watch without being seen. After a few minutes Amy had moved away, telling Rory she was going to make them some coffee. He'd nodded, not turning away from his watch of the console room. The Doctor had spent half-an-hour tinkering. Now he moved to the captain's chair, pulling a small book from his jacket pocket.

"What's he doing?" Amy's whisper made Rory start. She slipped to the floor beside him, passing over a steaming mug.

"He's reading," he murmured, taking a cautious sip of the hot drink. Amy had made him café mocha and he hoped the combination of espresso and chocolate would be enough to fight of the drowsiness he was feeling.

"Reading?" Amy huffed and sank back against the wall. For a few minutes she was silent, but when her fingers started drumming lightly on her mug Rory knew she was going to say something more. "Are you sure we need to do this?" she asked at last. "He hasn't done anything other than tinker for the past three nights."

"And what happens if he does fall asleep and starts sleepwalking again? He almost went over the balcony at the hotel. What if he… tries to fly the TARDIS and crashes us in to something?"

"We need to talk to him."

"You're welcome to have a go," Rory said, fighting back irritation. "I've tried but he just keeps dodging..."

"Sshh," Amy chided, putting a finger against his lips. "He's nodding off." Rory turned to see the Doctor's head nodding and his arms dropping away from his body. The book slipped from his hand, hitting the floor with a soft thunk. Amy and Rory waited but the Doctor stayed still. After a few minutes they got to their feet and stepped out onto the landing, moving cautiously down the stairs. The Doctor was still in the chair, his arms splayed out to his sides and his chin resting on his chest. The sound of soft snoring reached them. Rory was tempted to move the Time Lord – he was bound to get a crick in his neck – but he didn't want to wake him. He sat down on the steps to keep watch. With a sigh, Amy settled beside him, threading her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder.

The Doctor's face was relaxed in sleep, making him look even younger than usual. Rory studied him as he waited. Almost all his memories of the dreams they'd shared were faded, but he could clearly remember the way the Dream Lord had taunted the Doctor. It'd been mind-boggling to learn the Dream Lord _was_ the Doctor. His inner darkness, turned against himself he'd said. He'd ridded them of the psychic pollen so they were no longer sharing dreams but that didn't mean the Doctor wasn't still having them.

Rory could feel his eyelids getting heavy and he struggled to keep awake. Amy's breath came in steady puffs against his neck and he was fairly certain she was already asleep. He felt himself start to nod, his head dipping toward hers, and jerked himself awake. The move jostled Amy, who lifted her head. She started to frown at him and then her eyes went wide.

"Rory! He's moving!" Rory turned to see the Doctor moving slowly down the steps toward the TARDIS doors. He got stiffly to his feet and started down the rest of the staircase. He moved slowly, expecting the Doctor to turn at the bottom of the stairs and go under the main floor. To his surprise, the Doctor kept moving toward the TARDIS doors. Rory felt his heart start to pound and quickened his steps.

"Oh my God," Amy said. She kept talking but Rory tuned her out as he dashed down the steps. The Doctor was pulling open the doors. For a second he stood in the entryway, and then he took a step forward. Rory dove for him, catching his ankle and tugging hard. The Doctor pitched forward, his legs hitting the TARDIS floor while his torso and head were dangling out into space. Amy arrived a second later, catching at his waist and helping Rory pull him back into the ship. The Doctor fought them, clawing at the floor and struggling to get back to the doors. Rory wrestled with him, prying his hands away before he could get a purchase on the door-frame.

"Amy!" he cried. "Shut the doors!" He managed to roll the Doctor away and she closed and bolted the doors while he continued to struggle with the Time Lord. The Doctor was on his back now, swiping away. One of his blows connected with Rory's eye, knocking him aside. For a second Rory lay on the floor, stunned. The sound of a slap roused him and he pushed himself up to see Amy planted in front of the TARDIS doors. The Doctor was standing in front of her, one hand raised to his cheek.

"Wha… what was that for?" he asked.

"You were sleepwalking," Amy said.

"Don't be ridiculous…"

"You were, Doctor," Rory told him, getting to his feet and moving to stand beside Amy. The Doctor looked lost and confused for a moment, until his gaze settled on Rory's face.

"What's happened to your eye?" he asked.

"You hit me," Rory replied.

"I hit you? Why would I do that?"

"You were trying to go out the TARDIS doors and when we tried to stop you, you fought us."

"I tried… No. No, I couldn't have."

"You did," Amy said firmly. "If Rory and I hadn't been here you would have stepped right out into space." She folded her arms across her chest and frowned at him. Rory stayed beside her, watching the Doctor warily.

"I… I'm sorry," the Doctor said, bowing his head. "I… I didn't mean to scare you."

"Scare us?" Rory protested. "You could have died!"

"I'm sorry," the Doctor repeated, not meeting his gaze. They were silent for a few minutes, Rory and Amy staring while the Doctor looked down at the floor. Finally he looked back up, his face guilty and anxious. "We… we should get something for your eye," he said, reaching out to touch Rory's shoulder. "Come on. Medical bay's just down the corridor." He turned away, starting up the steps to the main floor. Amy stared after him in disbelief.

"It's ok," Rory told her. "I'll go with him to the medical bay. You go get a spare set of my pajamas. He _is_ going to sleep." He gave her arm a quick squeeze before hurrying after the Doctor.

The Doctor was waiting just inside the medical bay door when Rory arrived. The room was bright, with white walls and three hospital-style beds in a neat row. The Doctor waved him toward the first bed before turning toward the white cabinets which lined one wall, interrupted only by a small sink in the center of the span.

"Just have a seat," he said, rummaging through the first cupboard. "I've got an ointment here somewhere which will take down the swelling."

Rory waited until the Doctor was applying the ointment before he spoke.

"Doctor, you need to tell me what's going on," he said, working hard to keep his voice calm. The Doctor's hand paused for a second before he resumed his gentle application of the cream.

"I don't know yet. I'm working on it."

"Is it the Dream Lord? Are you seeing him again?" The Doctor stayed silent. When he moved his hand away Rory caught his wrist. "Talk to me. Tell me what's happening."

"Rory…"

"Trying to figure it out on your own isn't working so why not try talking to me?" Rory asked.

"It's… look, Rory, I… I just don't think…"

"You don't think I can help. Why? Because I'm just a nurse? Because I'm human?"

"No, it's … I don't…" The Doctor lifted his hands in a helpless gesture.

"Look, you're the one who said you didn't like being on your own," Rory told him. "Well guess what? You're not on your own. Amy's here. I'm here."

"For now." The words were so soft Rory wasn't sure he'd heard them correctly. He stared and a flush crept up the Doctor's face. "I mean… that's not…"

"You think we're going to leave now that Amy's made up her mind about me."

"You wanted the Leadworth dream to be real. You wanted that life – settled in a nice village with a baby on the way, no madman in a box to drag you into danger."

"What I wanted, what I've always wanted, is Amy. I can be happy anywhere – any _when_ – so long as I've got her," Rory said. He leaned forward to clap the Doctor on the shoulder. "I can even come to like her madman." The Doctor smiled a little, nodding.

"But eventually…"

"Eventually is a long way off." Amy's voice came from the doorway and Rory looked up to watch her walk in. She carried a tray of steaming mugs and had a pair of Rory's sleep-pants draped over one arm. "We're here now," she said firmly. "You called us your friends. Friends help each other." She settled the tray on the end of the bed and Rory could see she'd made mugs of warm milk.

"You can't keep going without sleep, and we can't keep sitting up to watch you," Rory said, turning back to the Doctor.

"I know."

"Are you having nightmares? Is that what's causing you to sleepwalk?" Amy asked. Rory shook his head.

"Sleepwalking and dreaming occur in different parts of the sleep cycle, at least for humans," he said. The Doctor nodded.

"In Time Lords too," he said. "I… I'm not dreaming."

"So if you're not dreaming while you're walking…" Amy began. The Doctor cut her off.

"No, you misunderstand. I'm not dreaming at all. I've stopped myself."

"Stopped yourself? How?" asked Amy.

"It's… complicated. A Time Lord trick."

"Is it possible you're sleepwalking because you're suppressing your dreams?" Rory asked.

"Anything's possible," the Doctor replied, shrugging. He looked exhausted and Rory could feel his own weariness increasing.

"There's one way to find out," Amy said. "Go to sleep and let yourself dream. If you wake up in bed, it's worked." The Doctor looked apprehensive and Rory gestured to the beds.

"There are three beds here. We'll each take one. You won't be alone." When the Doctor continued to look doubtful he pressed on. "We've seen your dreams, Doctor. We were in them. You're not going to scare us off."

"Ok," the Doctor said finally, nodding. "There… there are restraints. We should use them. Just in case."

"We could give you some kind of sedative…" Rory began but the Doctor shook his head.

"I can metabolize drugs very quickly if I've a mind to - another Time Lord trick. I wouldn't trust myself and I don't want to hurt you," he said, ducking his head. "Again."

"Ok," Rory told him.

"Right," Amy said. "If we're going to do this you should get changed." She held out the pants and the Doctor took them, moving to the far bed and drawing a curtain around it.

A few minutes later he was stretched out on the bed. Amy was rummaging in a cupboard for a blanket and Rory was attaching the padded cuffs to the Doctor's wrists.

"Tell me if it's too tight," he said.

"It's fine," the Doctor assured him, wiggling his fingers. His eyelids were drooping as Rory reached for the second cuff and by the time it was fastened, he was asleep. Amy draped a blanket over him before she and Rory moved away. She took the bed closest to the door, while he took the one in the middle.

After several sleepless nights and a mug of warm milk, he thought he'd be asleep in seconds but he wasn't. He lay still in the darkness, listening to the steady sounds of the Doctor's breathing. He couldn't help but feel he was waiting for something.


	3. Part 3

It happened half-an-hour later. The Doctor's breathing hitched, then increased in speed. Rory turned on the bed, pushing himself up on one elbow. A roundel above the Doctor's bed began to glow, giving him just enough light to make out the form of the Time Lord. He was whimpering now and as the dream intensified, he began to move in the bed, trying to thrash but held back by the restraints on his wrists. As Rory sat up, the Doctor began to speak in his sleep.

"No… you can't… don't… no, _please_." Rory dropped off his bed to stand beside the Doctor's. He wanted to stop this dream, but he didn't want to wake the Doctor if he could help it. He remembered the way the Doctor had touched Amy's face when she'd been dreaming under the control of the multi-form. He'd spoken to her and her dreams had changed. Could he do the same for the Doctor? He reached out cautiously, laying his hands against the Doctor's cheeks for a second before moving his finger-tips into place around his eyes sockets. He concentrated, trying to think soothing thoughts, and gently pressed down.

The next thing Rory knew, he was standing in what looked like a waiting room. Chairs and couches were arranged around the room, along with end-tables covered in tattered magazines. The room was crowded with people milling around. There was a blonde girl close to his own age, in a blue leather jacket, purple top and jeans. There was a thin man with artfully mussed hair, one of those annoying (in Rory's opinion) styles which tried to look un-styled but obviously took a lot of effort and gel. There was a black woman, with beautiful but sad eyes holding hands with a man whose face was a mask of barely-contained anger. There were clad in black combat gear, guns and knives on their belts. There was a woman a few years older than Rory pacing near them, her deep red-locks captured in a thick ponytail. An old man was with her, looking anxious. A handsome man in an old-fashioned military uniform was pacing, shooting glares at the skinny man. Rory didn't have time to see if anyone else was in the room because the double-doors at one end were thrown open. The Dream Lord stepped out, a satisfied smile on his face.

"The Doctor will see you now!" he called. As one the room's occupants moved toward the doors. Rory moved with them, easily losing himself in the crowd.

The next room was empty, save for one item. An electric chair sat in the center of the room. Wires ran from it across the floor to the wall behind, where there was a large, red switch. The Doctor was in the chair, clad in Rory's sleep-pants. He was strapped to the chair and electrodes were attached to his temples and chest. He stared at the crowd entering the room, his breathing picking up speed even as his face grew pale.

"No," he murmured. "No, don't do this."

"They're your friends, Doctor," sneered the Dream Lord. He was the last into the room and he shut the doors behind him. "Shouldn't they be the ones to decide what you deserve?" For a second Rory thought the Doctor would protest, but his shoulders slumped and he let his head drop. The Dream Lord's smile grew wider as murmurs rippled through the crowd. He moved forward, stopping for a moment at the chair and reaching out to adjust an electrode before continuing to the switch on the wall. He rubbed his hands together gleefully and the room fell silent. Everyone's eyes were riveted on him, and he was obviously enjoying it.

"Don't worry," he told the straining crowd. "Everyone will get a turn. Now, who wants to go first?" More murmurs rippled through the crowd.

After a moment the crowd seemed to part and the uniformed man came forward.

"Doctor," he said, his voice vibrating with anger. "You've regenerated, again."

"Jack…"

"Doesn't matter. I still can't stand to look at you," the man called Jack snarled. He began to pace in front of the Doctor's chair as he talked. "You know you and Rose did this – put this curse on me, made me immortal. And then you tell me you can't stand to be around me, that it's painful. I spent a year being tortured and killed, dying every single day, and that still wasn't good enough for you. You left me behind."

"You chose to stay…"

"Yeah, I stayed. I knew you didn't want me along and I thought… I thought I could do some good."

"You did, Jack…"

"Oh yeah. I saved the Earth." Jack's voice grew more strained as he continued. "I saved the Earth alright. I also watched my lover die. I… I killed my own grandson."

"Jack, I'm so…"

"Shut up!" the man shouted, whirling to face the Doctor. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the Doctor's forearms tightly and his face inches from the Time Lord's. "I just want to know _why_ ," the man hissed. "Why weren't you there? Why didn't you help us? Why did they have to die?"

"Jack…" The Doctor stopped as the man pushed away from him, shaking his head in disgust.

"You should have known better than to rely on me to save the world," he said bitterly. "I'm _wrong_ , remember?" He turned and stalked away.

There were more murmurs from the crowd, and the black couple stepped forward.

"Hello, Doctor," the woman said. There was a bitter-edge to her voice.

"Martha…"

"All I wanted, all I ever wanted my whole life, was to be a doctor. And then you came along."

"You are a doctor."

"No, I'm not. Not anymore. I'm what you made me, Doctor. I'm a soldier. I don't heal people, or study aliens. I hunt them down and kill them." She gave a bitter chuckle, glancing at the man beside her. "I finally got over you, properly, only to wind up stuck with Rose's leavings anyway."

"No!" the Doctor protested. "No, you two love…" The man cut him off.

"You took her from me, Doctor," he said. "Rose 'n me – we had a good thing. We were happy. And then you showed up with your time machine and you took her from me. But that's not the worst part. You didn't tell me. Neither of you ever had the guts to come out and tell me. I waited for her. I waited a year – accused of murderin' her – and you come back and you still didn't tell me. You still left me hangin', waitin' for her to come back again, thinkin' maybe she still… She never did come out an' say it, an' that's on her, but neither did you, Doctor. Neither did you."

"Mickey…"

"You should have said. You should have been… _man_ enough to jus' tell me." Mickey shook his head and turned away, taking Martha with him.

The next person to approach was the red-haired woman, with the old man behind her. For a moment the woman just paced in front of the Doctor, her hands clenching and unclenching. She turned a couple of times as if she were going to speak, but she didn't get the words out. Finally, the third time, she was ready.

"I was going to travel with you forever," she said sadly.

"I know." The Doctor's voice was just above a whisper. "I'm sorry…"

"You killed me!" she yelled, her pony-tail bobbing. "That's what you did. You didn't just… wipe my memories. You took away everything that made me _me_. Donna Noble – most important woman in the universe you said and then… whoosh. I'm a nothin' again. I'm… I'm a useless, clueless, pointless _airhead_ again. Everything… everything I experienced, everything I did, everything that _changed_ me – gone."

"I had no…"

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare tell me you had no choice! You're _the Doctor_ , remember? You spent enough time tellin' me how smart you are, how _superior_ your Time-Lord brain is, but when it really mattered, you just… quit. Gave me up. Left me to rot in Chiswick. _Chiswick_! And then you think a bleedin' lottery ticket is gonna make up for it!"

"Donna…"

"You let me die, Spaceman. You saved the world, rescued the whole universe, and let me die."

"We tried, Doctor," the old man said, stepping up to put a hand on Donna's shoulder. "We kept tellin' her she was somethin' special, but she's never quite believed us. She'll go along ok for a few days and then, she gets this look, like there's somethin' she can't quite recall and it's breakin' her heart. You ruined her, Doctor. You were trying to save her, but you broke her instead."

"Wilf…"

"I know you didn't mean to. I didn't mean to kill you either, but it still happened, dinnit?" The old man steered Donna away.

The Doctor looked at the next pair waiting to approach and his face went even paler.

"You," the woman said, striding straight up to the chair. She slapped the Doctor hard, her hand leaving a red mark on his cheek. "You left me! Again! I ripped a hole through time and space to get to you and you took me back!"

"Rose…"

"And that wasn't enough. No. Not enough to dump me off in bleedin' Bad Wolf Bay again. No, you left me with 'im!" She waved toward the skinny man. "How… how could you? How could you even think…"

"He loves you…"

"He's not you! Yeah, he looks like you, like you used to look anyway. He talks like you, even thinks like you, but he's _not_ you! And I have to look at him every day and remember every day how you left me!"

"Rose…"

"You always think you know better, don't you?" said the skinny man, his voice low and contemptuous. "So smart, with your superior Time Lord brain and all. You decided from the start that I'd never be good enough, with my single heart and my… human-ness. You labeled me a mass murderer when all I was doing was finishing what you'd started. I was just trying to stop the Daleks for good, and I wouldn't have had to if you'd done it properly in the first place. You burned a whole planet, killed every last Time Lord, and still you let them escape! But _noo_ \- you decided _I_ was evil for trying to finish them, I wasn't good enough to live in the same universe as you."

"I…"

"So you dumped me off in Bad Wolf Bay. You decided I needed to stay in Pete's World – and you left me Rose as a consolation prize."

"I didn't…"

"She deserved better," snarled the thin man, his hand clenching into a fist. "Rose Tyler is no one's consolation prize!" The man lashed out, sinking his fist into the Doctor's stomach. The Time Lord doubled over with a gasp. "I've put my anger and rage to good use though. Oh yes! All that anger and rage has come in _handy_." He waggled the fingers on his right hand before driving it into the Doctor's stomach again. He drew back again and Rory moved forward.

"Stop!" he protested. The crowd turned to stare at him in surprise. "I… want a turn," he said, trying to scowl. The Dream Lord stared at him for a moment before nodding.

"Everyone gets a go," he said. The thin man snarled for a moment before stepping away, his dark eyes narrowed at Rory. Rory moved forward, feeling his heart pounding as the crowd watched him. His mind was racing. The Doctor's old friends were railing at him because he felt guilty. What could Rory say to… counteract it? And could he do it without the others trying to stop him?

"You… you took Amy away the night before our wedding," he said. "You took her away and you showed her things I could never… and then she kissed you."

"Rory…"

"I… I just wanted to say… thank you, Doctor," Rory continued. He could hear shocked whispers from the crowd behind him but he continued. "Amy… she's been dreaming of traveling with you since she was seven years old. You made that dream come true for her and then… then you came back and got me. You showed me Venice in 1580 and there were vampire-fish-people and it was weird and scary and… amazing." The murmuring increased but Rory kept his eyes on the Doctor. One of the electrodes had fallen away from his temple and he could see the strap on his right wrist loosening.

"What are you doing?" demanded the Dream Lord. Rory ignored him.

"I dunno how – maybe it was just listening to Amy talk about it since we were eight – but this traveling with you, with the two of you, is like a dream for me too. It can be dangerous and scary and weird but it's also… fantastic." Another electrode fell away and the strap on the Doctor's right wrist was gone. Rory turned to one side so he could see both the Doctor and the other people in the room. "I'm glad you're real, Doctor, and I'm glad I met you."

"You have no idea what you're in for," said the Dream Lord. "One day he'll leave you behind, and that'll be it. He doesn't come back. You won't see him again."

"That's not true," Rory replied. "He came back for Amy. Twice." He turned toward the crowd. "He brought the two of you together," he said, pointing toward Martha and Mickey. "And maybe he couldn't save you, but he came back to try to do something nice with that lottery ticket." He nodded toward Donna.

"And what about us?" demanded the skinny man.

"He tried to give you what you wanted," Rory answered. "Maybe it didn't work out, maybe it was a terrible idea to begin with, but he meant well."

"He abandoned us," Jack protested. "We needed him and he wasn't there."

"He's only one… Time Lord," Rory answered. "He can't always save everyone."

"That's not good enough!" snapped the Dream Lord. "Nothing he's done has been good enough!"

"He isn't perfect," Rory retorted. "He doesn't have to be." The last of the electrodes fell away from the Doctor, and the strap on his left wrist dissolved. Rory held out a hand to help him stand. The Doctor stared at him for a moment, seeming awed.

"Rory… how are you here?" he asked at last.

"I put my hands on your face, the way you did with Amy when the multiform had her. Next thing I knew, I was here."

"Why did you do that?"

"You were having a nightmare. I thought maybe I could… talk to you, stop the dream without waking you up. It was stupid…"

"It was brilliant," the Doctor said, grinning at him. Rory felt his face grow warm and ducked his head. The sound of clapping made him lift it. The Dream Lord was standing beside them.

"Bravo," he sneered. "You made it into his dream. You're so clever."

"He _is_ clever," the Doctor retorted. "Just like all my friends."

"Oh yes," the Dream Lord laughed. "Just look at your friends now."

"But this isn't them," Rory protested. "This is the Doctor's doubts and fears and guilt talking."

"Yes, yes, yes. We already know you're clever," the Dream Lord said, rolling his eyes. "Now stop it. Flop-hair doesn't like it when you show him up."

"He's not showing me up," said the Doctor. "He's just… showing me." He turned to his former companions and Rory turned with him. The group was smiling at him now, no traces of anger left in their faces. One by one they faded from view, the thin man going last. Rory and the Doctor were left alone with the Dream Lord. The balding man glowered at them.

"You think you're so clever," he sneered. "You've won, for tonight, but you know I'll be waiting for you tomorrow, and the night after that and the night…" His voice grew faint as he too faded away. The Doctor shook his head, turning to Rory.

"I think it's time we got out of here. What do you say?"

"Let's go."

A second later Rory found himself standing in the medical bay, his hands resting on the Doctor's face. He drew back as the Time Lord blinked up at him.

"Are you ok, Doctor?" he asked, reaching to undo the restraints. The Doctor sat up, rubbing at his wrists.

"I'm fine," he said hoarsely, and Rory remembered how he'd cried out in his sleep.

"I'll get you some water," he offered, moving away. There was a small sink near the cupboards, and he found cups beside it. He brought two back and handed one to the Doctor before taking a sip of his own. The Doctor drained half his cup in one go before looking up at Rory.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"Do you want some more…"

"What? No! I didn't mean for the water. I mean, not just for the water."

"Oh," Rory said, feeling his face grow warm. "You're… you're welcome." He took another drink of his own water, needing a moment to think. He was curious about the people from the dream, but he didn't want to pry. He was surprised when the Doctor started talking. He told Rory how Mickey had changed, from Ricky the idiot to Mickey the hero; how Martha Jones had transformed from an anxious medical student to a confident doctor working for UNIT; how Captain Jack Harkness had gone from renegade Time Agent and con artist to leader of Torchwood 3, working with a team to protect the Earth; how Donna Noble, super temp, had saved the universe and lost herself; and lastly, how Rose Tyler, shop girl from London, became Defender of the Earth.

"You've had some remarkable people traveling with you," Rory said when he finished.

"I still do," the Doctor replied, smiling. His grin turned into a yawn and Rory reached to take his cup from him.

"Do you think you'll be all right going back to sleep?" he asked.

"I'll be fine."

"What about…" Rory nodded at the restraints. The Doctor shook his head.

"I don't think I'll need them," he said. "You were right - suppressing my dreams was the problem."

Rory slept through the rest of the night without interruption. When he woke, the Doctor's bed was empty as was Amy's. He found the pair of them in the kitchen, laughing and talking as they made breakfast together.

"Rory!" the Doctor cried cheerfully when he entered. "You're just in time. How do you take your eggs?" The Time Lord seemed well-rested and Rory was glad to see some color in his face. He settled at the table, telling the Doctor he'd take his eggs over hard.

The three travelers returned to the medical bay that night. This time the Doctor's nightmare seemed less turbulent and it ceased once Rory put a hand on his shoulder. The Doctor slept the rest of the night through without another dream or any sleepwalking. The pattern repeated for the next several nights, with the Doctor's dreams growing less and less severe with each passing night. Finally they ceased and, after a full week of sleeping in the med bay, the Doctor announced he was ready to return to his own room and let Amy and Rory get back to theirs.

It took Rory longer than usual to get comfortable in his bed that night; he'd grown accustomed to sleeping in the medical bay. He'd just gotten his pillow properly squashed when Amy's head appeared over the edge of the upper bunk.

"Do you think the Doctor will be ok on his own tonight?" she asked.

"Yeah," Rory said, smothering a yawn. "I think he's going to be just fine."


End file.
